Odarin the Good Wizard

With his staff in hand Odarin commenced his trek back towards his home refreshed from his swim in the quiete beautiful lake and gradually his path began to widen and the sounds and smells of the city filled his nostrils again. Something had to give, something had to change. Odarin was mindful of each step when suddenly his eyes and ears picked up on something that was close to the side of the path he was following.

It was a fluffy blind baby bird crying out in distress from falling from its nest high above in the trees. Odarin looked from the baby bird to the tree above and could see and hear the chirping and frantic calls of its mother as she looked down on her offspring crying out in distress.

Odarin aimed his staff at the helpless baby bird and muttered an incantation quietly then slowly the baby bird levitated up and was placed back amongst its brothers and sisters ever so gently. Because Odarin had not touched the baby bird it was welcomed back into the nest by the frantic mother who flew down and perched herself on Odarin’s shoulder.

She commenced a bird song just for him to thank him for returning her baby to its nest. Odarin just listened to the magical sounds that emanated from such a small bird and he smiled back at her as she finished her song and flew back to the nest and he recommenced his walk back into town.

Doing things like this felt good and the fact that the mother bird showed her appreciation was an even bigger gift that Odarin filled away in his heart to remind him that doing something good was far more rewarding that doing something evil or on the outset just leaving the baby bird to die.

Slowly the pathway got wider and the noises from town got louder. Yelling, screaming, all the creatures who made that town their home be they Dwarfs, Trolls, Elf’s, Pixies, a few humans and quite a few more Wizards than any other town close by.

Odarins town was a maze of narrow streets, as complex as your heart. The streets were the veins and the creatures who lived there were the blood that flowed in, around and through them. There was the constant sound of blacksmiths forging and beating swords, shields and great plates into shape which gave the town a kind of irregular heartbeat and it also let you know the town was alive.

The town was that, a reasonably big village that came with no city planning and a great enthusiasm for architecture. Every building was different, borrowing this and that from another era. It made the place as glorious as a beloved grandmother’s quilt, every patch unique and as eye catching as the one before. It was easy to get lost there but being lost wasn’t a real threat because there was so much colour, vitality matched with so many wondrous shops to enter and parooz on the chance that you might purchase something unique for your own home.

Odarin’s home was full of stuff that he found in shops just like the ones I described. It was so full of things he found amusing, rare and intricate that he had to go into his back yard on three occasions and conjure up three sheds to house all of his wonderful belongings that he bought.

To his friends at school all the stuff he collected was nothing but useless crap but to him it was stuff that triggered memories of good walks , happy findings and treasured memories. To Odarin all his friends stuff in their houses was crap but his crap was wondrous stuff...to him.

It was the way of his town that the dwarfs did all the tricky work like beautiful gem filled necklaces, tiaras and jewellery while the trolls were the blacksmiths smashing, bashing and pounding out nasty weapons of war, the Elves were fantastic carpenters and the Pixies were just a pain in the ass getting into all sorts of trouble constantly.

They were like mosquitoes and had to be swatted away when their high jinks became too much. The Pixies were trouble makers so it was always wise to close your windows at night or if you went out during the day because they would short sheet your bed and loved playing practical jokes on the decent creatures who lived there who just wanted to get on with their lives.

Now that Odarin came home refreshed from his long walk and swim he checked his home for Pixies then ran a long hot bath to soak into to contemplate his next move. Should he leave town to find a job for some rich do gooders in a far away shire or try his luck in town to open his own shop and maybe sell some of the ‘stuff’ he had collected.

As he sank into the piping hot bath water his thoughts were washed away by the warmth of the water...and the bath salts he procured and put in there to help him sleep. He would let his next move be one that he made after a good nights sleep and a hearty breakfast the following day.

The hot water was just below his nose and his whole body was submerged in the warming waters. He thought about the lake.....briefly, he thought about what he would need if he did decide to take off, sell up and move on...briefly. The hot bath made it so he couldn’t concentrate on thing for very long but as hot baths have a tendency to do...they get cold.

So Odarin let the water go in the bath and got out, dried himself for the second time today then put his favourite pyjamas on and headed for his bed. As his head sank back into the goose down pillow his eyes slowly closed and sleep carried him away. He had marvellous dreams of walking trails he didn’t recognise and evil little goblins trying to take his staff from him.

It was an interesting nights sleep.

What would tomorrow hold in store for him?